


Nothing to Earn

by oniichan1928



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27194638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oniichan1928/pseuds/oniichan1928
Summary: "All those rotten things inside, they fester, and he keeps them there, keeps them to himself, because he has no right to share those burdens with anyone else, no right to ask anyone to look at so much ugliness and stay anyway. "
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Nothing to Earn

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing that randomly popped into my head. No point keeping it to myself when other people might enjoy it, so here it is.
> 
> Unbeta'd, so apologies for any mistakes!

"I love you."

The angel shifts in the bed, rolling till he's half on top of Dean, chin propped up on the hunter's bare chest. Dean snorts and looks down at him, wrapping one arm around Cas' naked waist under the covers. "Where the hell is that coming from?"

Cas doesn't answer right away, just stares at him with his too-blue eyes like he always does. Dean lets him, now, doesn't try to run away anymore, doesn't try to hide. He wonders when he stopped feeling like he had to. Cas eventually inhales deeply and presses a kiss to his sternum before laying his cheek back down onto Dean's chest.

"When I first met you," he starts, voice low and deep and gravely, and Dean can feel the words as much as he can hear them. "You asked me why God would care about you."

Dean doesn't answer, just wraps his other arm around the angel's waist and holds on to him tightly, because he has a feeling he's not gonna like where this conversation is gonna go.

"Do you remember what I said?" Cas finishes, too soft.

Dean stares at the ceiling, and wonders why Cas would bring that up, now of all times, why any of that would even matter anymore. Cas is a little weird on a good day, but he does usually have a point, even if he explains it in a really convoluted way. That doesn't mean Dean wants to hear it.

"Do you remember?" Cas probes gently, poking him in the side with one finger.

"Yeah, Cas, I remember," Dean finally says around the lump in his throat.

"You still believe it." It's not a question.

Cas is lifting himself up onto his forearms now to look down at Dean, and it's too intense, there's so much burning there that it hurts to look at him, and Dean wants to recoil, wants to kiss his angel and not think about things like this, about what he has to lose and what happens when he wants things. Doesn't want to think about the things he can't stop blaming himself for but can't stop wanting to be forgiven for.

He thinks maybe Cas must understand some of that, on some level, even though Dean hasn't really said anything. Maybe that's why being with Cas is so easy; there are so many things Dean doesn't say that the angel hears anyway, and Cas doesn't push in the places where it hurts because he knows they're there without Dean having to tell him.

Cas leans down then, presses his lips chastely against Dean's like he's asking for permission, before tilting his head and deepening the kiss. And this is better, Dean thinks, this is simpler and less complicated and easy. He closes his eyes and he doesn't need to think, just rolls them onto their sides and holds his angel close, feels his skin warm and silky beneath his fingers, lips soft and pliant against his own.

They pull apart, limbs tangled, and Cas trails kisses on Dean's collarbone while his dark mop of hair brushes against the hunter's chin. He knows Cas isn't done yet.

"You still believe it," Cas murmurs against his skin, breath hot when he speaks. "But you don't want to."

And there's nothing he can really say to that, because he's not wrong. Because Dean feels that gaping void in his soul every minute of every day, feels that deadness spreading inside so acutely that he's sure someday he'll wake up and find that there was actual poison in his blood instead of just self-loathing. All those rotten things inside, they fester, and he keeps them there, keeps them to himself, because he has no right to share those burdens with anyone else, no right to ask anyone to look at so much ugliness and stay anyway. That's the choice that he makes because he's too much of a coward to be alone; hide all the darkness in a place where it won't hurt anyone but himself; that's the price he pays to not be alone. But it's selfish nonetheless, because the darkness never stays away from him, and he's never the one who pays the price for that. It's always everyone around him that does.

He knows he doesn't deserve any different, knows that the reason his soul is so black is because he has done things to deserve it, and if the world keeps beating him down, it's because he has to pay for all the people he's failed. It's because the things he has are not things he deserves to have. And Cas had guessed it right, back then and again now, because he still doesn't believe he deserves to be saved.

But he wants to be anyway.

And that's the epitome of his selfishness, isn't it? That, after all the people he couldn't save, should've saved, all the people who died for him and because of him, he still has the gall to want forgiveness, despite knowing that he has no right to ask for it. He still has the audacity to want someone to come back for him, every time, despite knowing that he should pay his penance by being alone. He still wants to be the one saved, despite all the people who need to be saved from him.

He has Cas, and he doesn't deserve him, but he wants him anyway.

"Dean," Cas calls, and then there's a hand on his cheek and a thumb brushing his cheekbone.

"Yeah?" he answers, voice rougher than he wants it to be.

Cas presses their foreheads together and closes his eyes. "You don't have to earn the right to love yourself."

And what can he say when Cas just lays out his soul like that, like those permissions given form aren't somehow earth-shattering? What is he supposed to do when Cas just offers him salvation so easily, offers forgiveness like it isn't hard?

There are so many things Dean doesn't say that the angel hears anyway, but that doesn't mean Dean shouldn't say them, doesn't mean Dean doesn't want to say them. Because Cas should get to hear them. But the words still stick in his throat, they still have thorns and spines that catch in his flesh before he can get them out. So he stays silent, and quietly begs Cas to stay without saying anything at all, because he can't ask, when he's done nothing to deserve it, said nothing to deserve it.

And then, "You don't have to earn the right to love me, either, Dean.

Even if you can't say it, I still know. And I love you, too."

> " _I can't forgive you. I can't forgive myself. But I want to." - Given_

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are my lifeblood ;) *wink wink, nudge nudge*


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